Introspective
by SEREMcKnight
Summary: Tony finds comfort, support, understanding and a surprising ally after a weekly ritual brings someone new into his life. Slight AU/OOC
1. Tony Tells a Tale of Small Betrayals

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I never have and I never will.**

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><p>"<em>Necessity may well be called the mother of invention- but Calamity is the test of Integrity."- Samuel Richardson<em>

Tony didn't look up as he pushed the light double doors of the building opened, though he flinched when they swung closed behind him with a whoosh. The lady at the front desk looked up, a smile splitting her face when slightly clouded blue eyes landed on him. "Anthony." She said warmly, standing up to greet him him a with a hug from frail arms.

"Hello Dorris." He greeted the elderly woman back with a smile, though it never reached his eyes and the elderly lady could tell it was clearly forced. "Come to visit the animals again, Anthony?" She asked kindly as she reached for one of the plastic cards hanging off of lanyards on the wall, which she handed to him with a smile.

He nodded and accepted the pass, which he hung around his neck. "Head right on through. I'm sure they'll love to see you again." She said as she took her seat again. "They'll be the only ones." He muttered to himself sourly, as he opened the heavy wooden door that led to the back of the building. He was immediately surrounded by noise. Barking mostly, interspaced with the soft meows coming from a separate room nearby. He headed there first.

Inside he was nearly bowled off of his feet as more than two dozen furry bodies wrapped around his ankles, demanding attention with loud yowls. He felt himself smiling and chuckling despite his earlier melancholy as he knelt down and began petting each cat in turn, talking in a low, sweet voice. "Yes, Allie, you look gorgeous today. And you too, Carrot. No I don't have any treats I'm afraid, Gobber, and that look will not make them appear magically."

He spent an astounding two hours with the cats and kittens, playing, petting, snuggling and talking until, at last, they lost interest in him and, with farewell meows, went off to naps. He stood up and left the room and went down the hall to a heavy metal door which he pushed open and stepped out of into the freshly trimmed play yard.

Where he was promptly knocked down and covered with slobber by four, very happy, very hyper dogs.

He rolled onto his back with a resounding laugh that shook in the chill fall evening air. "Noooo! Get off me you lardos!" He shouted playfully, desperately trying to push them off. He failed and was set upon by others very quickly until he was on the bottom of a large, very excited, pile of dogs. After a few more minutes of struggling he got out from underneath the pile and picked up a rope tug.

He whistled and laughed as all heads turned towards him. "Come and get it!" He shouted, turning and bursting into a sprint as he was set upon by the pack.

~Break~

Tony had one last stop on his list before he got ready to go home for the night. In the back of the animal shelter was a large quiet room where the elderly dogs were kept. Though, with one shining exception. As Tony pushed the door open an elegant head looked up at him with soulful brown eyes, the sole occupant of that room at the moment. He smiled lovingly and strode over, pressing his back to the wall and sliding down so that the elegant head could rest in his lap. "Hello Annabelle." He cooed, rubbing her gently behind the ears.

Chocolate brown eyes looked at him, speaking of wisdom and weariness that belied her age. Annabelle was only five years old, young by Afghan standards, but old by experience. Tony had been there the night they first brought her in scared out of her mind and snapping at everybody like her life depended on it. Tony had spent the entire night, much to the astonishment of the staff, sitting beside her cage and talking incessantly until she'd calmed enough to eat, drink and let a vet examine her. Now he made a point to visit her every time he was here.

She licked his hand softly and he threaded his free fingers through the silky softness of her silver fur. "I screwed up today, Annabelle." It came as a strangled whisper and Annabelle, sensing his distress in a way only an animal could, pressed closer and whined softly, nuzzling his neck. "Or at least that's what everyone else thinks." He said as he resumed the slow petting of her fur.

"You remember that case I told you about last time I was here? The one about the missing Marine?" She yipped softly. He knew he was talking to a dog, but he'd sorted through more issues with her than with any therapist. Dogs don't judge you. They just love you. "Well, we found him today. With a bomb strapped to his chest. He got the jump on me, managed to get my gun away from me while I was searching the house for him."

He sighed. "He starts screaming that if they didn't come out and drop their weapons he was gonna blow us both up. So Gibbs, Ziva and McGee come around the corner and give him their weapons and the next thing I know I'm on the ground and my head hurts and he's out the door. Nobody got hurt." He paused and winced sheepishly. "Well, not too badly anyway. But it get's worse. He used me as a shield so he could get away with top secret files."

He winced. "I really expected Gibbs to be mad at me. And he was. Him angry I could handle." He took a stuttered breath. "It was this look he gave me while I was getting into the car, this look of absolute disappointment on his face. God it felt like someone had just stabbed me with a rusty knife." His voice wavered in distress as he hugged her. "Ziva and McGee didn't even spare me a look the rest of the morning while I was typing my incident report and Abby, who never gets angry at anybody, wouldn't look me in the eye."

"I think I sat behind my desk and did nothing but write my incident report until lunch. Everyone left but me and a few minutes later, lo and behold, Director Vance came down to chew me out. Or so I thought." Annabelle turned soft brown eyes on him as a slow grin spread across his face. "I tell ya' , I almost checked the calender when he asked if I'd like to get coffee in the lounge. I agreed and we both got a drink and sat at a table. It was empty in there, for once. So we sit down and he looks at me all concerned."

He paused there, running his hands through her fur for a few more minutes before he began again. "You know I've told you a hundred times I was sure that man was out to get me? I was wrong. I think. Jury's still out on that one. Anyway, he says that he heard about the fiasco this morning and I'm steeling myself for this huge lecture. Only I don't get one. He tells me he understands, he's been in that position himself." He laughs, a much lighter sound than before. "It was a case, years ago when I was still working in Philly. I remember seeing it on the news in the squadroom. I just didn't think that skinny little kid they showed a picture of was him."

"So he goes on to tell me that, since it appears my team is in a holier-than-thou frame of mind, I can hand my report into him when its done. And then my phone rang and you'll never guess who it was." He smiled brightly, and it reached hazel eyes, causing them to snap and flicker with mirth and joy. For months, since he'd first found out he was allowed to have large dogs in his small house on the outskirts of the city, he'd been arguing with the outside adoption agency that ran the animal shelter over adopting Annabelle. "I won my argument. You're coming home with me tomorrow."

He was happy again and Annabelle shared his joy. "So anyway, I get this call and they tell me I get to take you home. I did a dance right there in the lounge, in front of my Directer, no less. I hang up and he's giving me this look that just screams worry over my mental state and asks me what the call was about. I explained to him and you know what he did?" She woofed softly at him to tell him to complete his story.

"He's letting me leave early tomorrow! Plus, I get the whole weekend off, not On Call, to help you settle in. All I have to do is show him a picture. Apparently, our big bad Director has a soft spot for dogs." He looked down at his watched and sighed softly. Near eight at night, the shelter would be closing soon. He stood, smiling softly when she stood after him. He looked at her flowing coat, bright brown eyes and wagging tail, his heart wrenching when he landed on her missing back leg. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the last dog treat, the bacon one he always saved for her and gave it to her without fuss.

"Bye, Annabelle. I'll be back tomorrow, and I'll take you home, where you can be happy." This was said in determination as he stroked her silky fur one last time and left the back room. On his way out he stopped at the wall next to Dorris's desk, where a bulletin board of pictures was, a small table of framed ones below it. He picked up one from the table, fingers gliding over the black and gray frame. "Dorris. Is it alright if I take Annabelle's picture now?" He asked.

The elderly women smiled. "Sure, Anthony." He smiled and waved on his way out. "Bye Dorris, see you tomorrow!" He shouted over his shoulder, as he walked into the chill fall night to his car.

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><p>Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs watched Tony from behind his coffee cup where he sat at his desk. Tony was strangely subdued today, though his usual bounciness fought to break through. He hadn't spoken unless spoken to, hadn't made a joke all morning, wasn't playing games on his phone. Wasn't being the Tony they all knew and loved. He knew they'd been a little harsh on the other Agent yesterday, but Tony always bounced back from these sort of things. That wasn't the only thing new about Tony this morning.<p>

Sitting beside Tony's own coffee cup was a, rather innocuous, black picture frame. But whenever anyone tried to look at it, even Abby, he'd gently placed it face down with the enigmatic response "It's a surprise." echoing again and again in the room. At lunch Tony had packed his things, except the incident report file and the picture into his bag and continued working silently at his computer until Two O'clock in the afternoon, when the ominous presence of NCIS Director Leon Vance descended the stairs and made a beeline to the partition separating Tony's desk from the walkway, which he leaned over.

"Meeting's at Two-forty five?" He asked benignly, to which Tony nodded, a small smile creeping to his lips without him noticing it. "I got your report." He said, handing off the file. "Do I get to see?" Vance asked, voice dropping, though Gibbs still heard it. Tony smiled brighter this time and nodded, holding up the picture frame for the other man to take. Vance's eyes snapped with delight and a smirk split his face. "She's beautiful! What's her name?" He asked. "Annabelle. She's five." By now the conversation, and the atmosphere surrounding it had drawn the attention of the rest of the team. "Missing a leg?" He asked and Tony nodded. "Abused when she was younger. Bastard took it clean off." Vance huffed, but smiled again.

"You're a lucky man, DiNozzo. You can leave now, you don't want to be late. I'm officially dismissing you until Monday. You take care of her." Tony nodded and stood, holstered his gun and grabbed his badge, coat, bag and the picture before he left. Vance turned around as Gibbs stood from his desk.

"What was that?" He asked, dangerously. Not only had Vance just carried on a conversation that was not of a work nature with one of his team during working hours, he'd taken his report and dismissed him on leave without his prior knowledge. "I approached Agent DiNozzo yesterday during lunch, seeing as you all thought it wise to treat him like a pariah. I informed him since, apparently, you didn't want to speak with him that I'd take his report upon it being finished. Then something came up and he requested the day early, which I gave, as well as some of his back leave, to rest."

Gibbs growled angrily. "Is it your job to take care of my agents in my place?" He snapped and Vance met him with an equally flinty eyes stare. "It is when a team leader can't stop himself and the rest of his team from acting like a bunch three-year-olds and treating one of their own like trash. Did you even ask him if he was okay yesterday? Did you make sure he went and got his head checked out? No, so I did that for you." He snapped, losing his usual cool. "If you can't get your team together, I'll be reassigning agent DiNozzo somewhere else, where his team will take care of him and treat him like an equal. This isn't the first time you've done this, Gibbs, but you best hope its the damn well last."

With that thought, Vance spun on his heel to his office, leaving a shocked Team Gibbs in his wake as a disturbing realization settled heavily in their guts.

Vance was right.


	2. McGee Feels The Urge For Comical Harm

**AN: Thanks so much for the reviews everyone, they mean a lot. The situation described below involving Tony, the Police Academy and the National Guard is a situation often seen by young men and women who want to get into the Academy, but are denied for minor reasons. Plus, it's fun to make Tony competent for once.**

**Disclaimer- I still don't own anything.**

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><p>Tony tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel, staring from the dog resting peacefully in the backseat to his ranch style home. "Damn irrational fears." He hissed to himself, with a self-deprecating smile. He grabbed the leash off of the passenger seat and climbed out before he rounded the car and opened the back door. "Annabelle." He called.<p>

Elegant silver fur framed brown eyes looked up at him as she woofed softly and allowed Tony to clip on the leash, jumping out of the car with surprising ease and limping after him into the house. Tony dropped his keys in the bowl and turned on the light, though it was still early evening. Annabelle's claws clacked on the hardwood floor as he stepped back to let her explore on her own.

He'd had an extensive conversation with the adoption agency's representative as she explained how to integrate Annabelle into his daily life. Feed her at regular intervals, or leave a bowl and make sure she gets plenty of exercise to prevent weight gain. Always have fresh, cool water available for her, as well as toys and access to the fenced in backyard. Walks everyday, morning or night, his choice and plenty of bonding.

The house was dog-proofed now and he went over to the couch and watched with quiet amusement as she nosed about, sniffing around the bedroom, guest room, kitchen and dining area before she came into the living room. She looked around once before coming over to him and laying a paw on his knee, barking. "Well, what do you think, Annabelle? Do you like it here?" He asked and she barked again, jumping awkwardly up into his lap, where she curled up and he pet her softly.

They sat there for a while and Tony nearly drifted off before his phone went off and he groaned, groping for it on the coffee table, flipping it open and pressing it to his ear. "DiNozzo." He drawled. _"Anthony! Where have you been? You were supposed to come and let me check your head again!" _Tony smiled. Ducky had been the only one, beside Vance, who'd treated him normally yesterday. Vance had sent Tony down to the, thankfully, empty autopsy suite to have his head examined by the good doctor who, as always, regaled him with a rambling story until he'd been cleared with promise of returning the next day for a follow-up.

"Sorry about that, Ducky. I had a meeting today, so Vance let me leave early. If you want to come over in...about an hour, dinner should be ready." There was a chuckle on the other end. _"I'll bring the usual. Be ready in an hour Anthony!" _Tony nodded and bid him goodbye before he set the phone back on the table. "I have to go get dinner ready." He said as he tried to wriggle out from underneath Annabelle, laughing softly when she stayed firmly put.

"You're not gonna move, are ya'?

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><p>Tony looked up at the same time as Annabelle as a knock sounded at the door. He wiped his hands on the dis towel and walked down the hallway. "Who is it?" He asked, settling the towel over his shoulder. "Its me, Anthony! And Mr. Palmer as well." Tony cocked his head. While Palmer was not an unwelcome guest in his house, he couldn't figure out for the life of him why Ducky had brought him with. He opened the door and smiled.<p>

Ducky stood there with their usual twelve pack of Pepsi, a little know vice of the good doctor's that he always brought along for dinners. Palmer stood behind him, what looked like a cake resting in his hands. "Ducky, Jimmy! Come on in." He said warmly, stepping aside so they could move through the walkway. Ducky led Jimmy into the kitchen, Tony taking the tail. "My goodness Anthony! That smells amazing." Ducky exclaimed. "Lamb Risotto, a DiNozzo favorite and Tony special." He said brightly, going to his cupboard and bringing down the makings for a third place setting, which he placed at his table.

"Not to worry. There's plenty to go around. Probably enough to feed all of NCIS a couple times." He said jokingly. He went into the kitchen again. "Make yourselves comfortable at the table guys, it'll be ready in a minute." He said, stirring the pot. He put the lid back then went to a cupboard next to the sink, pulling out a bag. He reached in and filled the measuring cup half way full. Half a cup, her second serving. He dumped the cup into the bowl near the sink and refilled the water dish before he whistled.

"Annabelle!" He called. There was the sound of a thump as she hopped to the ground and the, now familiar, odd tap-click of her claws against his wooden floors. Ducky's voice broke the warm silence of the room. "My goodness.! Anthony who is this absolutely marvelous creature?" Admiration was clear in the doctor's voice as Tony smiled and reentered his dining room. In the middle was Annabelle, patiently allowing both Ducky and Palmer to shower her in warm praise.

"That's Annabelle. I adopted her today. It's why I left early." He said, picking up the bowls from the table and heading into the kitchen and filling them with the thick Risotto he loved so. He balanced them on his arms and placed them on the table before whistling again. "Go eat Annabelle. Ducky can spoil you later, during dessert."

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><p>The three men sat back at the table, clearly pleased with the filling meal they had just eaten. Tony took a final sip of his Pepsi and turned to Palmer. "They still fumigating your house, Palmer?" The younger nodded, laughing with slight self-deprecation. "I knew I should have taken my neighbor's recommendation. These guys don't know what they're going, so Dr. Mallard is letting me stay with him until they finish." Tony nodded and stood.<p>

Annabelle, who was laying under the connecting arch of the dining room and living room, looked up, her tail thumping softly on the ground in her own contentment. He deposited the dishes in the sink and looked up as Ducky cleared his throat pointedly. Tony smiled and nodded. "Palmer. Why don't you grab a couple of Annabelle's toys and go play in the backyard? Ducky's going to check my head quickly and then we'll bring out coffee and dessert." Palmer looked up and nodded, smiling.

Then he looked around confusedly. He had no idea where the toys were. "In the living room. There's a toy box by the TV." Palmer nodded and went into the living room. There was the sound of things moving about, a series of loud annoying squeaks and then a shout of triumph and a bark of happiness. Palmer returned, Annabelle hot on his heels, holding a ball, a pullrope and a plush rabbit. He and Annabelle went through the backdoor in the kitchen to the yard, leaving Ducky and Tony alone in the kitchen.

Tony finished filling the sink with hot water and slipped the dinner dishes into it. Risotto stuck to everything unless it was allowed to soak for a while before washing. He started the coffee and then followed Ducky into the brighter light of the dining room. He wordlessly pulled a penlight from his pocket and flashed it in front of Tony's eyes a few times before he spoke. "Director Vance spoke to me today, about the team." He said. Tony flinched and groaned, not wanting to start this argument again. "Ducky, they're just stressed is all. I'm sure they'll get better." He said.

Ducky snorted, an odd sound form the good doctor. "Honestly, Anthony! How many times have you told me this. I myself am getting quite irritated with the way they use you for a scapegoat. Director Vance is thinking about transferring you soon if this doesn't improve." Tony's blood ran cold, even as Ducky checked his reflexes. "Agent Afloat?" He asked breathlessly. Ducky looked up at him and smiled reassuringly.

"Heavens no! Not after last time. No, he agrees its about time to put your leadership skills to work. If it doesn't improve or if you still feel you want to do it, he's thinking about putting you on the NCIS Anti-Terrorist Task Force and have you lead a team." Tony blinked dumbly. Getting assigned to ATTF was a big deal and would be a huge boost to his career. "Ducky, don't those agents get shipped out to the Middle East? And don't they usually have military training?" Ducky nodded.

"Vance believes that, after all these years working for us and, considering your reservist status with the National Guard, you have what it takes to lead a team out there." Tony blinked. "How do you know about my reservist status?" Many years back, Tony had been turned away from the Police Academy because of his frat-boy track record, which had a few complaints and misdemeanors against him on it. The officer in charge of applications told him if he could make a year in a branch of the military, they'd accept him. Tony had chosen the National Guard simply because he could see himself helping people, not shooting and killing them. After two years of honorable service, Tony had reapplied to the academy on his twenty-first birthday and had been accepted, putting him on reservist status until his unit was called, which had yet to happen.

"Why, it's in your file Anthony! Two years honorable service plus the fact you've remained a reservist for nearly twelve years. I'm surprised Gibbs and the others don't know." Tony shrugged helplessly. It wasn't something he broadcasted. "Alright. You're clear. Now what say you we join Mister Palmer and Annabelle in the backyard for some much deserved cake?"

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><p>Timothy McGee cursed softly again, irately shutting his laptop and standing quickly, moving into the kitchen with intent of coffee in mind. He was becoming nearly as bad as Gibbs, drinking multiple cups a day. His mind was still reeling from the lecture they'd received from the Director earlier in the squadroom. He hadn't really realized how badly they'd been treating Tony lately. His stomach rolled when he realized it was because it was the norm to treat Tony like a hapless puppy who couldn't do anything right and had too much energy to spare.<p>

Really, that wasn't a fair assessment though. Tony, for all of his foibles, had done a great job when Gibbs had quit, no matter what he or Ziva might say. He was a good investigator with good skills in processing crime scenes, handling suspects and victims and office politics. And they still treated him horribly! McGee sighed and, instead of pouring his milky sweet coffee into a cup, he poured it into a travel thermos and grabbed his keys. He needed to talk to Tony. He needed to explain himself and try to apologize. He drove in silence, no radio, which he usually had blasting, with the windows up to block the fall chill.

While he knew where Tony lived, he'd never actually been to the other agent's house, so when he drove down the street he did so slowly, checking numbers as he went by. Finally, he stopped in front of a warm looking ranch house. "603 South Park Street. This is it." He breathed, looking at the house closer. There were cars parked in the driveway. One was Tony's black sedan, one that he recognized as Ducky's car and another he thought to be Jimmy Palmer's. The sound of laughter and barking filtered out into the quiet street from the back yard.

McGee was about to exit the car when he watched the door of a neighbor's house swing open and two young children, no older than eight years each and twin girls, came bouncing out, an older man, who McGee presumed to be the father behind them, carrying a platter. The kids knocked loudly on the door and their voice reached him easily from his place across the street. "Mr. DiNozzo! Open the door!" McGee could see shadows moving behind the curtains before the door opened and Tony stepped onto the small porch, the most beautiful dog in the world by his side. "Clara and Sara! What are my two favorite girls in the world doing here? I thought I was taking you to the park tomorrow?" He said playfully, giving each girl a hug and then watching in amusement as they were instantly distracted.

"You got a dog Mr. DiNozzo! She's so pretty!" Tony chuckled and smiled. "That the dog you've been going on and on about, Tony?" The man asked, smirking when Tony blushed softly and nodded. "She's amazing, isn't she Lincoln? Her name's Annabelle, and she'll be joining us for our trip to the park tomorrow." Thee girls screamed in delight. Finally, one of the girls looked up and beamed brightly. "We brought you cookies, Mr. DiNozzo! Clara and I made them all by ourselves." McGee watched as the man, Lincoln, cleared his throat. "Oh, and daddy helped too, I guess." Tony and Lincoln burst out laughing.

"The girls' class had a guest speaker today. She was a baker. The girls came home and asked if we could and I figured why not? I also wanted to thank you for taking them tomorrow." Tony smiled gently and took the platter. "Not a problem Lincoln. You know I love babysitting them." Lincoln nodded and then stepped back a little. "Alright girls. We best let Mr. DiNozzo get back to his dinner guests. Say goodbye, because the sooner you're in bed, the sooner you can wake up and run Mr. DiNozzo ragged at the park." The girls hugged both Tony and Annabelle before turning and following their dad, who shouted a "Goodnight!" over his shoulder before he left.

Annabelle followed them into the yard. She was about to turn around when her eyes alighted on his vehicle and she growled softly. Tony came back from setting the tray down somewhere, having noticed she wasn't at his side like she usually was. He stepped into the front yard after her, sandle covered feet, crackling against the fallen leaves. "Annabelle? Why are you growling like that?" He asked softly, looking up where she was.

He looked straight at McGee, who's stomach did a nasty flip as, in the dying evening light, he watched Tony's face contort in hurt and betrayal, heard the soft hitch in his breathing. He grabbed Annabelle's collar and gently led her back inside and shut the door.

McGee felt the distinct urge to throw himself off a cliff at that point.


End file.
